


Revival

by longlostintentions



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drinking, Emetophobia, Gen, I'm new to this fandom, Kissing, One-Sided Attraction, Pills, References to Drugs, So I'm still working on their characters, Suicide Attempt, but not too bad, it gets a little gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 22:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19733356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longlostintentions/pseuds/longlostintentions
Summary: A couple friends, and a revival.





	Revival

**Author's Note:**

> I liiiiive. I'm back... With another fandom?! Don't worry. I have actually an overwhelming amount of FFXV fanfics still in the works. But this wouldn't leave me alone yesterday.   
> I'm not gonna pretend like I'm gonna start updating regularly, cause I tried that... But I'll do my best to keep working on them. I haven't given up on them. Know that much at least.
> 
> Anyways I'm still new to this fandom so I'm still working on characterization, so spare me some grace.

At first all you hear is a muffled noise, someone talking? It feels like it woke you up, but you can't see, nothing but darkness. You can't breathe, it feels like something is laying on your chest, making you choke and beg for air. Then, like a switch is flipped, your eyes open and everything goes from black to white. The pressure on your chest lets up and you gasp in a deep breath while your hearing starts to stabilize. This time you can hear someone calling.

“Detective!”

The sound sets off a ringing in your head and you keep struggling to catch your breath. Something warm, something warm and suddenly your lungs fill easier this time. The white starts to fade from your vision and you see eyes, a face, and slowly register it as the face of Lieutenant Anderson looking down at you. You can't tell if he looks concerned or pissed. The two pretty closely coincide with him, he doesn't like being inconvenienced by feeling concern for other people. Even though it happened a lot more often than his exterior would lead anyone to believe.

As your consciousness starts to come back you cough and sputter, trying to get control of your own breathing. You blink to clear your vision, shakily sitting up as Anderson studies you and Connor, who had apparently tagged along, reached out to steady you. Then you feel a familiar roiling in the pit of your stomach and groan, reaching out to push anyone away so you can roll onto your side and heave out some of the contents of your stomach. You feel a hand on your back while Anderson sighs and gets up, walking into your kitchen. He comes back with aa bowl, which you waste no time in using again. You were starting to feel empty and your insides were cramping.

“Jesus, kid, how much did you drink?” Anderson's voice reaches you. You grimace as you glance over to the empty vodka bottle nearby. His eyes follow then he looks back at you with raised brow.

“Really? Bit of a lightweight, huh?” Anderson sounds amused. Connor, who you were dismayed to find scrutinizing the contents of the bowl in your lap, speaks for the first time.

“I don't think it was the alcohol that knocked them out, Lieutenant,” he states. Anderson shifts his gaze over to Connor.

“What the hell are you--” then he looks at the bowl. The multitude of pills still dissolving in the fluid.

“Connor, call an ambulance,” Anderson instructs.

“No...!” you whine as Connor's LED flashes yellow. Anderson gets up again to fill a cup of water for you.

“Look, you probably got it all out but we sure as hell can't leave you here.”

“I know... I know just... No ambulance... Please.”

Anderson sighs and raises his hands in surrender.

“Alright. Alright, no ambulance.”

Connor hesitates before his LED rings blue again.

“Alcohol consumption with medication is incredibly risky, there are several studies--”

“Connor, shut up.”

You almost laugh, he had no idea. But Anderson did, which explains the look he's giving you right now. You meet his eyes.

“Please don't tell anyone at the station...” you beg. He nods slowly and shrugs.

“None of their fuckin' business.”

Connor glances between Anderson and you. No doubt it won't take long for him to piece it together.

“C'mon, there's a room in the ER with your name on it,” Anderson says, walking towards the door. Connor helps you stand on your shaky feet.

“And, uh, bring the bowl.”

Connor had been told to ride in the back with you, to keep an eye on you and make sure you didn't fall asleep. You nurse a bottle of water while trying not to let the movement of the car make you sick again.

“What did you take, by the way?” Anderson calls from up front. You shake your head.

“I.... don't know.”

His eyes narrow in the rear view mirror and Connor turns his attention back to you.

“You what?”

“I don't know. I don't take any meds but my friend left a pill caddy here. I figured it didn't matter since...”

“What-- For fucks sake...” Anderson sighed up front.

“So we got no idea what might be in your system? Fantastic.”

“I think perhaps I could help with that.”

You look at Connor weakly, your brain is starting to fog over and your eyes are closing. His hand comes up under your chin to keep you awake.

“As you know by now I have built in analytical sensors,” Connor continues. Anderson groans in the front seat.

“You mean that thing where you stick everything in your mouth like a two-year-old?”

Connor seems unfazed by his accusation.

“Correct.”

You nod and doze, starting to slump against him.

“O-Okay.... What d'you need?” you ask sleepily. Connor shifts your body upright as you groan in frustration at him.

“Just a saliva sample.”

That wakes you up a little.

“A what...?”

“Saliva sample. It's the most easily accessible fluid. Well, that or...” he looks down at the bowl and you groan in disgust.

“Oh, _gross._ You can't seriously be saying what I think you're saying...” you plead. His passive brown eyes flicker back up to you.

“I wasn't designed with taste receptors, it wouldn't bother me.”

You shake your head.

“Well it would bother me, saliva it is. So uh.... What.... I mean how...?” the realization of what he's asking for hits you and it makes you awkward. Connor doesn't seem to notice.

“Well, obviously, the most convenient would be direct transfer.”

You clear your throat.

“Right... Obviously...”

He holds up a hand.

“But I understand if that makes you uncomfortable. Instead I could...”

And you can hardly believe this situation as he holds a couple fingers to your mouth. Heat rises to your face, you aren't sure what's worse. Kissing him or the excessively sensual situation you're in right now. You shake your head and push his hand away.

“Direct uh... Transfer is fine.”

Connor grips your swaying body to steady you and before you can even think his mouth is on yours. He's surprisingly soft, warm. It's quick, just enough time for his tongue to brush against your lips and collect a sample. Enough time for your pulse to race and more heat to fill your face. When you feel him grin against you you pull away.

“W-What?!”

His eyes hold mischief but he closes his eyes, focused on statistics running through his head.

“There are trace amounts of diazepam in large dosage. Likely not enough was absorbed to do any lasting damage, but better to get to the ER anyways.”

You let out a breath.

“Also... Your heart rate and temperature rose significantly, though I have no indication that's in response to the diazepam... I didn't realize I affected you as such, Detective.”

He isn't looking at you but the bastard has the audacity to sound smug.

You groan and hide your face in your hands.

“God why didn't you just let me die?” Anderson's eyes flash at you again in the mirror.

“Not funny.”

Connor speaks from next to you.

“Lieutenant, I think their condition is stable enough to get some rest. Likelihood of lasting harm is less than 10%.”

You let yourself slump against him, getting comfortable.

“Sounds fine to me.”

“You just tried to off yourself, you don't get a say in that...” Anderson begins.

“Who even cares?” you ask morosely. You feel an arm tighten around you.

“The entire goddamn PD, so get some rest.”

You let out a breath and close your eyes, feeling the warmth and pressure lull you down into sleep.


End file.
